Training
by NeverMessWithTeddyBears
Summary: She approaches him slowly, her hands going to his waist. Her touch is light as a feather as she moves up his sides, but he feels each one of her touches; they leave fire in their wake. Fire that makes him feel alive more than he's ever felt. That's her true power, he thinks. Making me come alive. Pre-Endgame.


**Training**

x

She's lost count of how many magazines she's went through, but the bullets have went through the same two spaces on the target – the head and the heart – that one would barely be able to tell that Natasha used more than two bullets.

Her aim's always been perfect. It's just not enough.

She's been spending more and more time at the training rooms, practicing until she fell like she was ran over by fifteen trucks and then practicing some more. It was the only thing to get her mind off what happened, the only thing that seemed to help distract her from the pain. The only thing except-

"Nat."

_Bruce_.

His voice is soft and she feels calm wash over her. She's suddenly not so tired anymore. Her shoulders drop as her hands go down by her sides, one holding the gun, and the other goes to take off her ear protection. She hasn't realised how close she was getting to the target, her feet working on their own.

She moves to put the gun down, put Bruce only comes to stand behind her, so close that she can feel his breath at the back of her neck. "You've been up here a while." his voice is soft and barely above a whisper. It almost makes a chill go down her spine. "I got worried."

She smiles, his fingers coming to slowly touch the hand she's holding the gun with. "I'm okay, Bruce." she says. Truly.

She feels it more than she can see it, but he nods. "How many left?"

"Four." she's quick to reply. Knowing how many bullets she has left is as natural to her as breathing. Sometimes, it scares her.

His arms go to cover hers and he slowly lifts them together. Natasha lets him. "Don't let me interrupt you, meri jaan."

She doesn't put the ear protection back on, but she hasn't needed it for years; it was more routine and protocol and trying to escape the world around her that had her wearing them every time she trained at the shooting range.

Bruce's face is next to hers and Natasha lets herself lean into him, lets him aim her hands where they need to shoot the target, as if he has to teach her. She closes her eyes to the feel of him and pulls the trigger four times. Natasha doesn't need to see to know she hit her target, opening her eyes as Bruce slowly puts his arms away from hers, resting at his sides.

"Perfect."

Natasha teases. "Expected anything less, Doc?"

Bruce chuckles. "I may have hoped you'd find me presence distracting." he answers. "Have I lost my charms?"

Natasha turns around and his arms automatically find their place around her waist, pulling her close. She kisses him slowly and thoroughly, pouring everything she's feeling into it. Breaking the kiss, she smiles, her eyes looking up at his. "Never."

Bruce nods, appreciative, and gives her a short kiss before he steps away, taking the gun from her hand and changing the magazine to a full one. The tagret changed automatically, and he fixes his stance to take aim.

"For a pacifist, you're getting quite good." Natasha says after his first bullet hits the target what would be straight between the eyes.

Bruce pauses. "I had a great teacher."

She knows he can't see her, but the look on her face is still questioning. She may let some sadness in, too, just because he's looking away. "Still nothing?"

Were she not who she was, had she not known him as well as she does, she might've missed the slight tension to his shoulders as he fired again; might've missed the meaning of it. This time, the shot is just barely off-center.

"No." his answer is short, voice dry as if he has to clear his throat or drink a glass of water. He fixes his aim and fires again.

Natasha softly sighs. She wishes she could take the burden from his shoulders, the pain from his body and mind. But, she has too much to handle of her own, and knows he'd want to do the same. It's who they are, it's one of the reasons they're so bonded, why they love each other.

She approaches him slowly, her hands going to his waist. Her touch is light as a feather as she moves up his sides, but he feels each one of her touches; they leave fire in their wake. Fire that makes him feel alive more than he's ever felt. _That's her true power_, he thinks. _Making me come alive._

He keeps shooting, and his aim is perfect. Her hands move from his sides to his shoulderblades, then from his shoulders slowly down his arms, until she's holding him much as he held her before, helping his aim as if it's their first training session all over again and she's teaching him the basics. There's a light trace of a Hulk-green in a vein on his neck, pulsating slightly. Natasha leans in to kiss it.

"Am I distracting you?" she whispers near his ear and Bruce turns, one hand still on the gun taking aim, and the other lifting to hold her cheek, pulling her into a kiss. He kisses her until he's emptied the clip. He doesn't check his hits, doesn't stop looking at her.

"You focus me." he whispers as Natasha puts one of her hands over the one on her cheek. It makes her insides want to burst with too many emotions; she can't name them all, but she knows they're the reason she keeps fighting after she's lost so much.

Bruce puts the gun down on the table, then takes off the ear protection that dangled around her neck, putting it aside as well.

He takes her hand. "Wanna spar?"

Natasha grins. "Looking for a reson to get even more up close and personal, Dr. Banner?" she teases.

Bruce's tone matches hers. "What can I say? I'm devious."

His touch lights her up like a match and she feels like she could take over the world.

As they reach the mats, she takes him by surprise and makes him hard for him to try and win the upper hand. It's exhausting, the both of them knowing each other almost better than themselves, but Natasha doesn't have a place where she'd rather be than here, with him. Hearing him say her name, whispering nothings to her, teasing her.

Almost two hours later, as he finally taps out and she releases the hold on his neck and lies down, his head in her lap in-between her legs because of the chokehold position she had him in earlier, she truly thinks she could stay there forever.

Still, though, she can't help but feel the pain rush in all over again, tears coming to her eyes as breathing becomes harder.

Bruce takes both her hands in his, takes them over himself and kisses them before having them hold him, not letting them go.

"We'll be okay, Nat." he says. His voice echoes through the room. "It's gonna be okay."

Right now, she wants nothing more than to believe him.


End file.
